


pulling on your heart to push my luck

by mercutionotromeo



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Fingering, BDSM, Baby Harry, Collars, Dirty Talk, Dom Louis, Dom/sub, Dom/sub Play, Dom/sub Undertones, Gags, Leashes, Light Dom/sub, Louis Tomlinson Calls Harry Styles Pet Names, M/M, Masturbation, Medical Inaccuracies, Mutual Masturbation, One Shot, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Pet Names, Phone Calls & Telephones, Phone Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Short One Shot, Sub Harry, don't be turned off by the scenario I promise it's just a framing device, phone sex operator louis, there are very brief mentions of the other boys
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 03:05:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11682726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercutionotromeo/pseuds/mercutionotromeo
Summary: Harry gets by with a little help from his friends.Sometimes, "getting by" is really "getting off", and sometimes "a little help" is graciously provided by Louis, a phone sex operator with an incredibly hot voice.





	pulling on your heart to push my luck

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to another fic, friends! I can't resist phone sex operator!Louis - I got this idea late at night and wrote it, so I figured I'd post it. If you've read my other works you may know that I'm working away on an H/L AU, but I'm now working on two simultaneously. Both are very close to being done and soon to be posted; one involves Louis as a relationship counselor, and the other involves Harry as a horoscope writer. I won't go into more detail than that but there will of course be plenty of smut, as I'm primarily a smut writer, and hopefully some quality plot to connect it all together. Watch my page for those two stories! :-) Thanks for all of the views, kudos, and comments - it encourages me to keep writing. Hope you enjoy!

“Just fill it up to the black line, please!” The cheerful nurse downright chirps the instructions at Harry - as if she’s explaining how to plant a bloody flower instead of how to properly give a sperm sample. Harry stares at the vial she’s holding and gathers that he should probably grab it out of her hand, so he does.

They’re standing outside of a nondescript bathroom in the hallway of the family clinic he’s been going to since he was a kid. That fact only makes this entire experience all the more awkward. Nurses and doctors that were probably around when he was born are still bustling through the corridor, and knowing that they’re on the other side of this door while Harry’s trying to get himself off is not going to help his situation in the slightest. The nurse opens the bathroom door and gestures to a receptacle marked “Pt. Samples - Biohazard” that’s mounted on the wall near the sink.

“Put the collection vial in the little box when you’ve finished. And the, er... _reading_ material is located in the high cabinet.” She points to the battered cupboard in the corner, then gives Harry a friendly but pained smile and walks off, leaving Harry alone. He stares into the bathroom for a second, then is almost pushed through the door by an orderly carrying bed sheets and decides to just get this over with.

He shuts and locks the door behind him and looks around. The room is starkly medical, sterile. The white fluorescent lights are too bright and the kid’s step-stool next to the sink is far too familiar for his comfort. He sighs heavily and crosses to the cupboard, inspecting the...reading material...he’s been provided with. He leafs through the small collection of porn magazines, all of them heavily worn and obviously from the 1990s. His heart sinks as he realizes they’re all filled with images of women. _Great -_ just what he needs. Somehow, this is gonna be even harder than he'd expected.

He shoves the magazines back into the cupboard, frustrated, and sighs again. The last thing he wants to do is call the nurse back and say, “Sorry to remind you that you’re taking my sperm sample even though you’ve known me since I was 4, but I can’t come looking at any of these magazines because I’m gay.” Yeah - that would go over _be_ _autifully_.

He crosses to the chair in the opposite corner and flops down on its threadbare cushions. He massages the bridge of his nose and leans back in the chair, resting his hand lazily on his dick. He usually needs to have _some_ kind of porn to help him out - audio, videos, _something_. When he was a teenager with a sky-high libido, he used to be able to get off just thinking about guys, but he hasn’t done that in a long time. His dick needs a little more motivation nowadays. Who is he to deny it what it wants?

Seeing as there's no other option, though, he mentally files through his old go-to fantasies. He settles on an old favorite: him, in a black leather collar attached to a leash, getting fucked into his bed by whichever choice male he happens to be thinking about that day. He takes himself through the familiar motions, palming softly at his cock through his jeans. He doesn't have anyone in particular in mind, so his head fills with an indistinct male voice. “Be a good boy for me?” The voice says. Harry nods eagerly, mouth starting to water a little with want.

“Good. Turn around.” In his head, Harry pictures himself turning and kneeling for the man. He’s thought through this fantasy so many times as a teenager that he can practically feel the cool leather wrapping around his neck, can hear the clink of the metal as the imaginary man affixes a leash to the collar. Harry’s breathing becomes ragged, hand unconsciously moving faster as it runs along the hardening length of his cock.

“Now,” the man leans close and whispers hotly in his ear. “What do you say?” He abruptly yanks the leash, and Harry imagines the feeling of the collar tightening around his throat. “ _Fuck_ ,” he curses aloud, scrambling to free his dick from his jeans. “Oh - god -” he moans softly, wrapping his hand around his cock and using the bead of pre-come at the head to work himself into a rhythm. The fantasy in his head continues.

The man yanks the leash again. “I _said_ , what do you say?” Harry bites his lip, and the man laughs quietly. “Thought you were gonna be a good boy for me.”

“Th-thank you,” Harry sputters aloud, head spinning. This is normally the part where the fantasy man would make him suck on his fingers before he splits Harry open with them. When he was 16, this was about as far as he could make it before coming - primarily because this is always the part where he imagines he’s looking right into the eyes of whatever guy he’s thinking about - telling them how good they’re making him feel.

Now, though? Nothing. Not even a dick twitch. He sighs and concentrates harder. He squeezes his eyes shut even more tightly, working his hand up and down his cock more roughly. He's getting close to the edge, so close to unraveling, but it’s not enough. He just can’t get off with this generic version of a fantasy man. His dick is picky - it needs _specificity_.

He idly considers who he could picture to fill the man’s place. He _would_ use his boyfriend, but that role's very much empty at the moment. Harry doesn't feel much like thinking about how single he is, though, so he contemplates picturing the godlike face of his roommate, Zayn. Hell - he could even use his lab partner, Liam, with his cut jawline and manly stubble.

He exhales deeply and imagines Zayn staring into his eyes from beneath those gorgeous, thick eyelashes; he envisions his smirk as he sees how hard Harry is...and all it produces is a slight twitch of his dick and a small, strangled moan. Harry tips his head back and runs his other hand through his hair. He’s so hard now that it's almost starting to hurt, but he just can’t come.

He tries to picture Liam in front of him, his muscled arm holding tightly to the leash at his neck, but that just elicits a soft whimper. He runs through a mental list of the fittest male celebrities, but in vain. None of them get him hot enough. Hell, he even tries his best friend  _Niall_ out of pure desperation, but that actually makes his cock start to soften so he immediately goes back to picturing Zayn. It’s still not enough.

He panics as he wonders if the nurse is suspicious that he’s taking this long - maybe there are other patients who need to use the bathroom to do the same thing. God, this used to be so much easier. He pants, scrubbing a hand down his face and grinding back into the chair. A thought pops into his head, and he shakes it away in disgust at first, but then he thinks about it again. Maybe... _fuck_ , it’s wrong, but - still. He needs the help right about now.

He steels himself in preparation but still can’t control the desperate moan that falls brokenly from his mouth when he pictures Louis holding the leash, yanking on his neck and leaving bruises that he’ll feel tomorrow. Louis. Louis, his next-door neighbor who's way too hot for his own good. Louis, who Harry's heard moan through the wall. Louis, who uses his voice to make strangers come over the phone. Louis, who doesn't know Harry knows - Louis who's lied about his job, who's definitely trying to keep his true profession a secret. 

Louis, who's supposed to be a friend and nothing more. Louis, who Harry's been lusting after since the day he saw him collecting his mail in threadbare plaid pajama bottoms.

“Feels good, hm?” He pictures Louis saying - and fuck, Harry’s close now - God, he’s _so_ close. His pace quickens until he’s almost thrusting up into his own hand.

“Knew you’d like that. Such a good boy for me.” Harry’s so close to losing it, but, god - even this isn’t enough. It’s unbelievably hot and he wants to come so, so badly, but imagining how Louis’ voice would sound if he said those words isn’t enough compared to _actually_  hearing his voice.

What if...hell, what if he called him? Not to talk, God no, just to try and hear his voicemail message. That would be enough, surely? It wouldn’t be the sexiest thing, but it’d get the job done. He’d of course hang up the second Louis answered - _if_ he did. In his haze of arousal, Harry thinks this is a really good plan - brilliant, even. A choked moan escapes his lips as he digs in his back pocket for his phone, hand shaking as he scrolls through his contact list to Louis’ number.

He presses the phone between his shoulder and his ear so both of his hands are free, then feels around on his chair for wherever he left the collection vial. The ringing begins, each one sending shivers through his body that echo off his collarbones and tumble down his spine. After a lot of rings - maybe 8 or 9 - Harry is utterly convinced that it’s going to voicemail, which, thank _god_.

His eyes slide shut as a low “This is Louis,” purrs in his ear. He lets out a full, unabashed moan this time, unashamed at how turned on he is by this. God, even Louis’ fucking _voicemail message_ gets him hot. He works his hand up his dick, vision hazy at how good it feels to hear Louis right there in his ear.

His heart stops when, seconds later, there’s a sharp intake of breath on the line. Harry struggles to still his hand on his cock, flushing bright red all over. He freezes, knowing he should definitely hang up but completely unable to react.

“....Hello?” Louis asks, slightly confused, and Harry actually has to bite his lip to stop from moaning again, his voice is so sexy. A pause. Harry is sure Louis can hear his ragged breaths, can tell what he was just doing. “...Harry?” He asks, quietly concerned now. Fuck, Harry definitely can’t hang up now. Louis already knows it’s him and it’s going to be mortifying no matter what happens.

“Louis,” he breathes out, wincing at how fucking wrecked his voice sounds. “Harry - are you alright? Are you hurt?” Louis asks, panic rising slightly in his words. God, he’s so protective of him. It makes Harry’s cock twitch, and he raises a hand to it tentatively. “No, I’m - _ah_ \- I’m…” He trails off. He gasps as he slowly begins to jerk himself off again, unable to stop with Louis' voice in his ear.

A second passes as Harry struggles to form words - Louis’ voice is making him positively dizzy with want. Louis just listens quietly on the other end for a moment. “...What’s that sound, Harry?” He finally asks. The suspicion in his words is abundantly clear. God. Of course he recognizes this sound - the telltale slick slide of Harry's hand wrapped wetly around his cock.

“I - I, um…” Harry begins, unsure how to delicately word this; it's not even possible to say it in a platonic way. “Do you think you could - _fuck_ \- do me a favor?” He mumbles, head tipping back.

“What kind of favor?” Louis sounds quizzical. Harry sighs unsteadily. “Wouldn’t be asking if - _Jesus_ \- I wasn’t so desperate,” he murmurs, too far gone to be as embarrassed as he should be.

“What exactly are you asking for, Harry?”

Sweat beads at the nape of Harry's neck and drips down his back. He exhales shakily and bites the bullet. “Can you...would you...d’you think you could talk me off? Just, like - as a friend?” There’s silence on the other line for so long that Harry wonders if Louis has hung up. Finally, he hears the sexy rasp of his voice through the speaker.

“Talk you off, hm?” Louis says the words slowly, as if he’s testing them out. Harry practically keens in response, a high-pitched whine rising in the back of his throat.

“You want me to dirty talk you?” Louis asks in a low voice, and Harry thinks his cock could not get harder if it tried.

“No, don’t have to,” He pants. “You could read me your grocery list and I’d still probably c-come.” Louis laughs quietly into the phone and Harry unconsciously jerks his hips up.

“I think I’m still going to. Cause I want to,” Louis murmurs. All Harry can do is moan in agreement.

“I can hear your hand on your cock. You thought I wouldn’t be able to hear, didn’t you?” Louis starts, voice like velvet.

“Ungh,” Harry groans brokenly. Fuck, no wonder Louis gets paid to do this. He's  _so_ bloody good at it. 

“Feels good, does it? Getting off to my voice?” Harry’s eyes roll back in his head, lashes fluttering. “ _Harry_ ,” Louis says sharply.

“...Mm...mm?” Harry’s so out of it, out of his mind - Louis has him fucking stupid with need.

“I asked you a question. How does it feel? Getting off to my voice?” Louis repeats. Harry’s voice is absolutely ruined at this point, cracking and breaking with every word.

“God, fuck - so good. So fucking good. The best.” He can almost hear Louis’ smirk through the phone.

“The best?” He hums in appreciation. “High praise. Can’t say I don’t deserve it, though,” Louis continues. “Tell me what you’re doing, Harry. Want to know how you touch yourself to the thought of me.”

Harry practically whimpers at that.

“Go on, then,” Louis presses. Harry forces his eyes open and glances down at his hand on his cock, impossibly hard and leaking.

“I’m - _ah_ , fuck - I'm w-wanking. 'M all wet. Feels so...Christ, feels amazing." Harry adjusts his phone, wedging it more securely between his shoulder and ear. 

"Good boy. Tell me more."

Harry twists his hand down his shaft and whines a little, softly. "Trying not to go too fast but it's - _fuck_ \- so hard. Gonna come."

A pause.

"Hard, is it?"

Harry sucks in a breath. His cock twitches. "Y-yeah."

Louis hums appreciatively. "Sounds like it's good for you. Let's make it better, hm?" Harry nods, then remembers Louis can't see him.

"Yes, yeah. Please." He hears Louis shift, like he's leaning back in a chair.

"Do me a favor, Harry. Put your finger in your mouth. Get it nice and wet for me."

Harry curses quietly but complies, swirling his tongue awkwardly around his index finger. Louis pauses like he's listening, then sighs in disappointment.

"Didn't think I told you to stop jacking off, but you did. That doesn't make me very happy, Harry." Harry stares guiltily down at where his hand is hovering a few inches above his cock.

"'M sorry." He whispers. A moment of static, then Louis tuts disapprovingly.

"Don't tell me you're somewhere you can't make noise, Harry." Harry bites his lip and stares up at the flickering fluorescent lights.

"Yeah. Gotta be quiet," He breathes. Louis clicks his tongue again.

"Shame. I _so_ wanted to hear you moan my name, too." Harry inhales sharply, desperately wanting to be good for Louis.

"I can still do it. Just...quiet." Louis _mm's_ and continues.

"Trousers unzipped, yeah? Pants off?" Harry scrambles to obey, shoving his trousers and pants down to his knees.

"Done," He pants into the phone.

"Good. Take off your shirt for me." Harry sets his phone down for a moment and tugs his T-shirt over his head. In some far-off, darkened corner of his mind, a voice is yelling at him to hurry up - he's taking too long, people are gonna get suspicious. It's much easier than it should be to push that thought away.

"What now?" Harry asks breathlessly, eager to follow Louis' orders. Louis makes a sound like he's thinking, then his voice is low and demanding in Harry's ear.

"Gag yourself with it."

Harry swallows hard as his vision goes hazy with want.

"Harry," Louis presses gently, somehow sensing that Harry's getting overwhelmed. "What's your color, baby? How are you feeling?" He murmurs quietly in a suddenly serious voice. It just makes the heat rush to Harry's groin even more - knowing Louis really cares about his well-being, too.

" _Green_. Fuck, Louis - green, green, green," Harry babbles, unbearably hot and hard.

Louis' voice is still soft, gentle - "Good." Then, in the very next breath, it's back to its domineering tone. "You heard me. Gag yourself."

Harry complies, stuffing the soft fabric of his t-shirt into his mouth with shaky fingers. Louis exhales contently.

"Mm. Being so good for me, love."

Harry's eyes flutter shut, hips bucking a little.

"Can you moan, honey? Wanna hear how it sounds while your pretty mouth is all full." Harry doesn't even have to touch himself - Louis' words pull a broken whine from his lips. It's muffled by his gag.

"So hot. Love it." Louis' voice is getting lower and rougher as they go; it makes Harry's dick twitch wondering if he's getting off on this, too.

"You on a chair, sweetheart?" Louis asks, and Harry "mm-hm's" in response. "Turn over so you're kneeling on it."

Harry complies, squeezing his phone harder between his shoulder and ear so that it doesn't fall. His jaw aches from being gagged, but he's always liked when it hurts a little. "Want you to take your finger now and press it against -"

Harry already knows what he's gonna ask him to do and cuts him off with a choked " _Louis_ ". It's garbled but he feels certain Louis can still understand him.

His suspicions are confirmed when Louis mutters a quiet " _Fuck_ , baby," a second later. 

"Want you to take your finger and press it to your hole. Go slow - just tease yourself." Louis' breathing is getting ragged, and Harry freezes when he recognizes a familiar  _snick snick_ floating through the speakers. Louis' touching himself, too, and - fuck, fuck,  _fuck._

"C'mon, baby - tease yourself for me," Louis pants, and Harry reaches behind himself to pet gently at his entrance. He hisses at the contact, cock twitching against his belly. He moans against the gag, and Louis seems to love that - he moans, too, full and pretty. The sound makes Harry's hips rut back of their own accord, nearly pushing his finger fully inside himself.

"Wanna come, wanna come, wanna come..." Harry groans, his words mostly obscured by his gag.

"I know, baby, I know," Louis purrs into the phone, but Harry can hear his hand speeding up on his cock. He presses the pad of his finger to his entrance, dangling at the edge and aching to come. 

"So desperate for me, aren't you?" Louis breathes. Harry practically _whines_ at that - he feels so small and, yeah, desperate. "You wanna finger yourself now, baby? Come with all of your holes filled?" Christ, Louis' mouth is so dirty. It gets Harry even hotter. He whimpers around his gag and presses his finger to his rim again. The feeling of release is so close he can practically taste it on his tongue.

"Mm,  _fuck -_ " Louis curses, hand wet and obscene as he works over his cock. "Don't think I'll let you just yet." Harry sucks in a desperate breath, eyes streaming.

"Touch your cock again, princess, and let me hear it. Can you do that for me?" Harry hums in affirmation and takes his phone from where it's tucked under his ear. He holds it closer to his cock, all red and swollen, and begins to stroke himself with his other hand. It's mind-numbing, really, with how long he's been hanging on the edge. He's so glad that Louis wants him gagged - he doesn't think he'd be able to control his moans otherwise. 

Louis makes a pleased sound. "Oh, you  _are_ hard, aren't you, darling?" Harry screws his eyes shut and wanks in time with Louis' slick strokes.

"Gonna come, gonna come - gonna, gonna, gonna -" He whimpers, words choked off by the gag. The sentiment is still clear to Louis because he clicks his tongue.

"You can stop, baby. Want you to come on your fingers."

Harry whines again, then shoves his phone back under his shoulder. 

"Finger yourself for me. Just one finger." Harry nods resolutely, determined to hang on until Louis lets him come. He pets at his hole again, then slowly presses in up to the first knuckle. His eyes roll back, lashes fluttering. He's existing outside of his situation, giving zero thought to the consequences of what he's doing. Hell, he's on a different fucking  _planet_ \- one where the only thing that matters is Louis' voice and Louis' cock and _louislouislouis_. 

"That's it, love. Feels good?" Louis purrs, but his voice is really strained now. Harry moans brokenly, then presses his finger fully inside of himself. His brain's, like, melting with how good it feels. His thighs are shaking from holding his body up for so long and his cock - he doesn't even want to think about how painfully hard he is. 

"Fuck yourself on your fin-  _oh-h_ -" Louis cuts himself off with his own desperate moan. It's high-pitched and whiny, a complete contrast to the hardness of his voice, and it's unfathomably hot. Harry ruts back on his finger, automatically following his instructions. 

"Spit out your gag, Harry. Need to hear you now," Louis pants, breathless. He sounds just as close to coming as Harry is. Harry gladly complies, spitting out his t-shirt and moaning in spite of himself the second it falls away from his lips.

Louis keens in response. " _Oh_ , yeah - that's it, baby, that's what I like." Harry fucks himself with his finger but still feels too empty, needs more inside of him.

"Louis - I need more, can I -?" He asks, breathlessly. 

Louis swears under his breath. "Yeah, add another - _fuck_ , so good for me, Harry..." Gently, Harry slides his middle finger inside himself alongside his index finger. It's so much better like this - he can brush right up against his prostate with even more pressure. He thrusts his fingers in and out, sweat beading at his brow.

Louis suddenly breaks into needy whines - little  _uh uh uh_ 's that go straight to Harry's dick.

"God, Louis - gonna come, fuck -" He mumbles. Louis whines again.

"I know - 'm close, too, love," Harry twists his fingers inside himself, then scissors them open. His jaw drops at the sensation - it's unreal. 

"Got me so hard, princess. You're so hot, oh my  _god_..." Louis whimpers, and Harry's hips are suddenly stilling. He's so close to the edge he can taste it, can feel it in the flush rushing down his chest.

"Can I - can I, can I, can I --" He mutters, voice cracking with desperation. 

" _Ungh - fuck -_ " Louis whimpers, and Harry realizes with a start that he's actually coming. Holy fuck, holy shit - he's listening to _Louis Tomlinson_ come _in real time_ , and he _did_ that, Harry made that happen.

"Oh my  _god,_ " Harry whispers, struggling to hold on as he revels in Louis' broken sighs and whimpers. He scissors his fingers wildly inside of him, pressing relentlessly against his prostate. Louis' breathing slows and the string of moans finally stops.

"Fuck," He says quietly. Harry bites his lip - can't take it anymore.

" _Louis,_ " he breathes, too wrecked to say anything else.

"Yeah, go on, love - did so good for me, you can come now, baby," Louis whispers softly, and that's all it takes for Harry to finally let go. 

He comes so hard he practically whites out as the pleasure crashes over him in waves. It's relentless - easily the hardest he's ever come in his life. He comes absolute buckets, pearly ribbons painting his chest and neck and obscuring his tattoos. It feels like it takes hours for him to come down, but when he does, Louis is still whispering in his ear. "

Such a good boy, so perfect for me...so lovely, so good..." His voice is soothing and soft. Harry tucks his face into the crook of his arm and makes a sleepy, relaxed sound. "Sweet boy, perfect angel..." Louis murmurs. His voice is slowing Harry's heartbeat to a normal pace, bringing him down back to earth. 

"Thanks, Louis," He mumbles. Doesn't know what else to say. His voice is totally fucked out. Louis laughs quietly on the other line.

"Any time, love."

Harry blinks groggily, clearing the static from his head. He glances at his body and groans at the come that's all down his chest and decidedly  _not_ in the collection vial it's meant to go in. "Gotta go," He grumbles, pissed that he has to leave his perfect bubble of post-orgasmic bliss so soon.

Louis laughs again. "Okay. Call me later, yeah? Wanna tell you something." Harry can hear the smile in his voice - he can't wait to tell Louis he already knows his secret. Wouldn't have been hard to figure out otherwise, what with the way he just talked him off like the professional he is. Still, his heart flutters and beats harder in his chest.

"Definitely," He murmurs in response.

"Bye, love." Just like that, Louis' gone. Harry stares at his phone for far too long, drinking in the fact that  _this_ \- whatever it was - just happened. His eyes shift from his crumpled t-shirt - the front soaked through with his own saliva - and the collection vial, lying forgotten on the floor. He sighs up at the ceiling, breathes a quiet " _fuck_ " into the stagnant air, and gets to work cleaning himself up.

The promise of more Louis, he finds, is enough to get him through absolutely anything.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading this far! This is another addition to the world of phone sex operator Louis and uni student Harry! :-) If you liked this, check out my other works, especially "wanna die, wanna die, wanna die tonight" - it's my other work that's in the same world as this fic. The plot lines don't quite line up, but it's just the "world" where I'm dumping the PWP's I've cut from my longer works - it's nothing too structured. Stay tuned for relationship counselor Louis and horoscope writer Harry! Both involve copious amounts of sub!Harry, my fave thing to write, and a little sub!Louis, too, to switch things up. Both are coming ASAP! :-) Thanks again for all of the views, kudos, and comments - your support really does encourage me to keep on writing. Hope you liked it! Be nice, be good :-)
> 
> title courtesy of "Bite" by Troye Sivan


End file.
